Page 69 of Keep Me

It’s glaringly obvious to me that Killian’s choice not to leave his house in six years wasn’t much of a choice at all. He’s struggling right now. I wish there was a way to help him, but I don’t know how.

Reaching my hand across the seat, I rest it on his bare knee. It doesn’t do much to calm the jittery movements. He stares out the window with a scowl, so I reach over his lap and take one of his large hands in mine.

While Peter continues to chat with us about the weather and the holidays, I squeeze Killian’s hand and watch as the jumping in his knees quiets.

That is, until we pull up to a large house outside the city. It’s nowhere near as big as Barclay Manor, but it’s still large nonetheless. There are other cars parked in the large circular drive, so Peter pulls all the way up to the door to let us out.

Killian doesn’t even move until Peter opens his door.

“Have a lovely evening,” he says before we both climb out.

“Thank you,” I reply softly.

There is a bagpiper near the door, playing as guests arrive, although we seem to be the last to get here. It takes me off guard to see him there. I sort of assumed this would be an intimate family gathering, but judging by the size of the house and the noise coming from inside, this is a full-blown New Year’s bash.

Standing at the front entrance, I wait for Killian to take the first step. But he’s hesitating. So I wait beside him. After a moment of loaded silence, I turn toward him.

His face is tense, and his chest moves with slow, shallow breaths. Reaching out I take his hand again. “We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”

He shakes his head. “We’re going in. Just give me a second.”

“Take all the time you need,” I reply, giving his hand a squeeze.

His gaze cascades down to our linked hands and then up to my face. After a moment, he seems to reach a conclusion, and he turns toward the front door with purpose.

“Let’s get this over with,” he mutters before pulling on the handle.

We enter through a foyer first, much like something from a normal-sized home. Nothing like the mansion we live in. He takes my hand again and walks through the hallway of the family home until we reach a large living room.

The moment we step inside, the conversation immediately dies.

I glance around at the crowd, recognizing Anna first. Then I find Killian’s brother, Lachy, talking to his other brother, Declan, both decked in matching kilts like Killian is in. They are all staring at us with their mouths hanging open, frozen in shock.

It’s Killian’s sister who approaches first. Anna hurries over to us with her arms stretched wide for a hug. I notice tears in her eyes as she throws her arms around her brother. When she finally releases him, she smiles at his new haircut.

Then, Anna hugs me, whispering a grateful “Thank you” as she does.

A sense of pride floods through me at that sentiment. I really didn’t do much, and she probably doesn’t want to know what I really had to offer in order to make him come, but she doesn’t need to know. At least he’s here.

Next, Lachy wraps me up in a hug. “It’s been too long, little sister,” he says with a playful tone.

“Och, leave them alone, Lach. You know what they’ve been up to in that big house all this time.”

“Declan!” Anna snaps, scolding him with a slap on his chest. The men laugh, and I instantly glance up to see Killian’s reaction. The tension in his face is gone, and he’s even cracking a smile now.

The rest of Killian’s family comes over and greets us. We’re offered drinks and food, and we stay at each other’s side the whole time. An hour easily goes by before his aunt finally comes over to greet him.

I met her briefly at the wedding, but it was clear to me then, as it is now, that she is not the biggest fan of Killian. My shoulders immediately tighten as she approaches him.

“It’s about damn time, nephew,” she says.

She’s an elderly woman, probably in her late seventies. Like Killian, she has dark hair and pale skin. Unlike Killian, she is gaunt and thin.

“Hello, Auntie Lorna,” he replies in a low, muttering voice.

“You look good,” she says with a drink in her hand, letting her gaze scan his clothing. “And you brought your American wife.”

My jaw tightens as I glare at her. If this is the woman pulling the strings on this whole scheme with Killian, I have a very bad feeling about it all of a sudden.

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